#needle whump

[whumpy-wyrms]

The Last Lab Rat #1: Only The Beginning

masterlist | next

content: lab whump, kidnapping, begging, needles, drugging, manhandling, restraints, captivity, trans whumpee, defiant whumpee, intimate whumper

—

Anton decided five years was more than enough time waiting. His experiments were getting more and more dangerous to be practiced on himself, he needed a human test subject.

He began searching right away, despite the little voice in the back of his mind telling him it was a bad idea. Remember what happened last time?

He ignored that voice. Guilt? Morality? Whatever it was, his experiments were more important.

But he was never much of a people person, and now he had to go out and find the perfect poor soul that would have to endure an indefinite amount of gruesome scientific experimentations. He needed someone young and healthy, but still strong and able to take care of themselves for the most part.

And someone who would definitely not be missed if they were to disappear for a while.

After a few weeks of looking, he found someone. He never caught the guy’s name, but he would have to do. Anton spent his nights watching the man— who he assumed to be in his early 20s— from a distance. He worked a dead-end minimum wage job and was living in a small apartment with at least two other roommates. The guy didn’t go out much, and seemed to have little to no friends or family. He was a complete nobody. He was perfect.

It wouldn’t matter if people came looking for him anyway, Anton had a plan. He was a mad scientist, after all. He had a few tricks up his sleeves.

Anton spent the next few days planning out how to kidnap his new soon-to-be test subject without being caught. It turned out it was easier than he thought. All he had to do was wait, really, until it was the guy’s turn to take out the trash.

. . .

It was the dead of night, and Dew had his headphones on, so he couldn’t hear the stranger’s footsteps coming from behind him. Once the trash bag was in the dumpster and Dew turned around to go back inside, he suddenly felt a strong hand grab his wrist and pull him into an alleyway.

Before he had time to react, Dew’s scream was muffled by a hand clamping over his mouth and pulling him against the man’s chest. Dew struggled and kicked out as he watched his attacker grab something from his pocket.

It was a syringe.

Dew shrieked and bit down on the hand holding his mouth closed. The man hissed in surprised and loosed his grip enough for Dew to take a few steps away, only to be stopped by a hand around his ankle. Dew fell forward onto the hard concrete, kicking and screaming for help.

The man tightened his grip on Dew’s ankle and dragged his body towards him, the syringe in his other hand.

Dew kicked out, tears now freely flowing down his cheeks and his arms flailing for anything to grab on to. After he got close enough and the man started to lower the syringe— which was filled with a bright green liquid— towards him, Dew finally found his voice.

“W-wait!” Dew let out a petrified squeak, staring with wide eyes at the stranger looming over him. “P-please no, n-not that!” His breath hitched in his throat when the man made no effort to stop moving.

Anton tilted his head. He stopped himself from hesitating, he needed to do this. He thought this would go a lot more smoothly, for some reason. His new test subject was making way too much noise.

“Sorry,” Anton said, expression unreadable. “It’s nothing personal.” With that, he lunged forward and stuck the needle through his sobbing test subject’s neck, injecting the contents of it into his bloodstream. He covered Dew’s mouth before he could scream in pain.

When the syringe was empty, Anton quickly moved to the side and rummaged through some things in the corner that Dew hadn’t noticed before. Anton wasn’t worried about his new test subject running away right then; he would soon be far too weak for that.

Dew lied still on the ground, clutching his neck in terror. What did he inject him with? What was it going to do to him? His thoughts were racing as his body slowly started to give up on him. He tried crawling away from the man, but he felt himself just becoming weaker as he succumbed to the drugs.

Anton paid no mind to the blabbering mess that was next to him. He grabbed the rope and duct tape and began restraining his new test subject. It was a long ride home, after all.

Dew whimpered in protest as duct tape was covered over his mouth, but his body just felt too tired and weak to stop it. He didn’t have the strength to struggle anymore as rope was tied around his wrists and ankles, and a blindfold was gently placed over his eyes. Though, that didn’t make too much of a difference; his eyes were already drooping closed anyway.

The last thing Dew heard before being shoved into the trunk of a car and engulfed in more darkness, was a quiet “I’m sorry,” from the man. Then, he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

Anton was a nervous wreck on the drive home. He had never done anything like that before. Sure, he’d had his fair share of experimenting on unwilling human test subjects in the past, but not downright kidnapping an innocent person. He was mainly worried about anyone hearing or seeing them, though. He knew he’d have to get his own test subject eventually, and he was prepared for that.

He calmed down once he got to the lab. It was a long 4 and a half hour drive, and now it was around two in the morning; he was tired. He had to make sure he looked for a new test subject far away so nobody that came looking would find them all the way out here, in the middle of nowhere.

Anton parked the car and walked to the trunk. His new test subject was still fast asleep, and probably would be for some time. He gently moved his arms beneath the man’s legs and back, lifting him in a bridal carry. His test subject’s head lolled to the side against Anton’s shoulder. He looked cute sleeping like that.

Anton entered his cabin in the middle of the dense forest, descended the stairs, and arrived in his lab.

The scientist walked through his laboratory and up a small staircase to a little room in the side of the wall that overlooked the lab. He unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

Anton had prepared for this moment for a long time. He knew he’d need a human test subject eventually, and he knew he wouldn’t make the same mistake his predecessor made last time. This person was a human, and he was going to be treated like one.

Anton had transformed that small viewing room into a bedroom, adding a bathroom in the back as well. Sure, it didn’t give much privacy for his test subject since an entire wall was glass, but Anton decided that just meant he could observe his subject in his natural habitat, so it worked out okay.

He knew deep down he should feel bad. This was an innocent human being he was stealing from their life, after all. But this was also his entire life’s work here, and the scientists’ that came before him. What would his mentor think, if he gave up everything for one measly little stranger’s life?

Besides, he’s a scientist, not a sadist. He’d make his test subject feel as comfortable as he possibly could, that’s the least he could do, after all, he didn’t deserve any of this. He gave his subject his own room, a small way to make him feel some sense of control he didn’t have.

Anton gently set his test subject down on the bed and began untying him, removing the duct tape and blindfold in the process. Once he was done, he attached a chain to his ankle and tied him to one of the legs of the bed. It was long enough for him to move around the room and into the bathroom, but not far out the exit door.

Anton swiftly checked his subject’s pockets only to find an old looking MP3 player that was connected to his headphones. Right. He was still wearing those. Anton carefully removed his subject’s headphones and MP3 player and put them to the side. He probably won’t need those anymore, but might use them as a reward for good behavior, so they were worth keeping.

Otherwise, nothing else was in his pockets. No phone or wallet, so he couldn’t even find out what the man’s name was. Oh well, he’d have to ask him when he wakes up.

Anton took off his subject’s shoes— he wouldn’t be needing those anymore, it wasn’t like he’d be spending a lot of time outdoors— plus, they’re uncomfortable to sleep in. His glasses, too, were gently removed and placed on the nightstand next to a folded up hospital gown.

Anton tucked the smaller man under the covers; he wouldn’t want his test subject getting cold the first night, would he? As the other slept peacefully and oblivious, Anton took one last glance at him before heading to the door. It’d still be a few more hours until he would wake up, which would be much later into the night by then. Anton had made sure the camera above the door had a movement sensor, just for tonight, so he’d be notified the second his new test subject had woken up.

As Anton opened the door to leave, he hesitated, taking one last look back. His test subject was wearing a hoodie with strings. Can’t have that. Anton swiftly removed the strings, trying to ignore his guilty conscience of past experiences, and left his subject alone to sleep.

. . .

Dew opened his eyes, tired and groggy, but he wasn’t in his room. His head was throbbing, and it took him a couple of blinks to even get used to the blinding light coming from… somewhere. Not like that mattered since his vision was blurry anyway. Where were his glasses? His ears were ringing too. The faint buzzing from the lights didn’t help.

He tried to sit up, but realized his entire body hurt. Dew ignored the pain and moved his arms to his side to push himself upright anyway, but after just a couple of seconds, he fell back into the mattress, exhausted. His arms were weak, actually, his whole body was weak. He could hardly move.

Dew opened his mouth to call out– not even for help at first– just for anyone, for anything. But his voice was sore and raspy. He didn’t have the strength to speak. His mind was groggy as he wished for someone to just tell him what was going on. The more he tried to remember why he was like this, his headache only grew more painful.

Dew decided the only choice he had at this point was to go back to sleep. Wherever he was, whoever brought him here, he knew he would find out sooner or later. He was too tired to notice the restraint around his ankle keeping him chained to the bed, as he drifted off into another dreamless sleep.

. . .

After a few hours, Dew gasped awake, jolting upright despite his struggles earlier. He was surprised he didn’t hit his head on the ceiling, but then realized he wasn’t in his bunk bed anymore. He remembered where he was, and panic started to sink in.

He could hardly see— where are his glasses? Dew frantically looked around until his eyes landed on his glasses on the nightstand to the left of the bed. He snatched his glasses up and put them on.

Dew quickly looked around the strange room, panic starting to creep its way into his head. The room was small, and there was almost nothing in it. Straight ahead on the opposite wall was a steel door that seemed to be the exit. The bed was located in the middle of the room against the wall, and it was the nicest bed Dew had slept in in years. The wall to his right was entirely glass; a window looking out to what seemed to be a mad scientist’s lab below. Huh. He decided to ignore that for now. To his left was a normal wall with another door, though it was smaller than the other one and partially open.

Above the exit was a camera. Dew scrambled out of bed to take a look and suddenly felt a tug on his ankle. He looked down to see a long chain attached to one of the legs of the bed. Great. His panic was beginning to skyrocket.

Why was he here? How did he get here? Who put him here? His mind raced with questions and confusion, but he knew he had to stay focused. This was probably just a dream anyway; he had lots of weird ones.

After peeking into the other doorway which turned out to just be a small bathroom, all of his attention was focused on the camera. Someone was watching. Whoever it was, whether it was the person who put him in here or not, he would get their attention.

He stood as tall as he could, with a stoic expression. He needed to look strong and determined, he couldn’t let whatever freaks put him here see that he was absolutely terrified and defenseless.

After staring the camera down for what felt like either a couple seconds or 20 minutes, Dew heard footsteps coming towards the door, seeming to be walking up stairs. That’s right, his… cell was overlooking a fucking futuristic mad science lab just like the ones in movies. How could he have forgotten?

Dew stood his ground. He couldn’t think about that right now, there was someone on the other side of the door. One by one, he heard the locks on the door clicking. Dew stood his ground. He saw the door knob slowly spin. His heartbeat quickened, he couldn’t hide his fear. Fuck this!

Dew frantically leaped under the bed, covering his mouth with his trembling hand, trying to be as quiet as possible. The door slowly opened, making a loud creaking sound. Whoever was there was being eerily quiet.

From under the bed, Dew watched the person walk into the room, and then shut the door behind them. And lock it. They turned back around with a confused hum and walked slowly towards the bed. Every footstep rang in his ears and the closer they got, the more Dew wished he thought of a different plan that wasn’t hiding under the bed like a scared child.

He knew there was no point hiding under the bed, this person could just look to see where the chain led, not like there was anywhere else for Dew to have gone. This was futile, Dew knew he was just delaying the inevitable. Whatever this person wanted with him, it couldn’t be good. Once the footsteps came to a stop, Dew realized he was crying. All the events from last night came flooding back.

“Hey,” A voice rang. Dew knew that voice. His hand slowly reached up to his neck to feel the injection sight. It was real. This was real. “You awake? What are you doing down there?”

Dew felt like he was prey being taunted by a predator, like some sick game. He remembered last night now, remembered the struggle and fear and terror and—

Dew couldn’t stifle a small sob. He wanted to go home. He didn’t know why he was here, or where here even was. He didn’t know what this guy wanted with him, or what would happen to him. It was too overwhelming, Dew couldn’t take it.

The man crouched down next to the bed and looked underneath. Dew couldn’t stop sobbing as he curled up into himself. He just wanted to be left alone, he wished he could turn invisible or disappear from reality, so he wouldn’t have to be scared anymore. He felt the man’s eyes on him, but he didn’t move.

. . .

Whatever Anton expected when his test subject woke up, it wasn’t this. The poor thing wouldn’t even crawl out from under the bed, much less look at him. Anton didn’t know what to do, the guy was obviously in distress.

Anton couldn’t exactly… force the guy out from under the bed. He wanted to gain his trust, for what it was worth. He didn’t want to sedate him either, they needed to have an actual conversation about what his new test subject’s life will be like now. Anton needed to get him to come out on his own. Hell, he didn’t even know his name. Maybe that was a good place to start.

“What’s your name?” Anton asked.

“…W-What?” His test subject looked up at him, confused. He furrowed his brows and murmured, “Dew… My name’s Dew.”

“Alright,” Anton couldn’t stand those eyes staring at him now, wide and sad and confused, as if Dew was pleading him for answers, for anything. “I’m Anton.”

Dew glared at him. He was getting nowhere.

“Dew, are you hungry?” Anton asked. That made Dew’s ears perk up. He thought for a moment, it’d been a while since he’d last eaten. He didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping in this room for, but he felt his stomach growl at the thought of food.

Dew took a deep breath and tried to stop crying. If he wanted to get out of this, he had to be smart. He had to be strong. He shakily nodded his head and moved out from under the bed.

To Anton’s disappointment, Dew moved to the opposite side of the room, away from him. He curled up in the corner next to the window that looked out to the lab. Yeah, Anton would have to explain that soon, huh.

Anton stood, grabbed something off the nightstand, and walked over to Dew. He towered over him as Dew looked up in fear.

“Alright,” Anton started, gesturing to the hospital gown in his hands. “So, I’ll go get you some food, and while I’m gone, I want you to put this on.” He set it down on the bed and began to head towards the door to give Dew some space.

Dew took one glance at the hospital gown and found his voice again.

“W-wait—” Anton paused at the door, looking back curiously. “I don’t— why am I here? What do you want with me?” Dew asked timidly.

“Oh,” Anton began. “I guess I should tell you now then? You’re my new test subject, to put it simply. I’m a scientist and I needed a human to start doing my experiments on. Understand?”

Dew’s stomach turned. He felt like he was going to be sick. No, he most definitely did not understand. Was he just expected to accept this like it was nothing? Like this guy didn’t just kidnap him and take him away from his life? From his friends? Dew stared in disbelief. No, this couldn’t be real. This was a dream. This only happens in weird futuristic sci-fi movies. Not real life.

Dew shook his head rapidly, he felt his heart going a million beats a minute and he needed to get out of here.

“I’ll uh, give you some time to process?” Anton could see Dew’s panic, which was obviously getting worse by the minute. Maybe sedatives were the good choice here?

“I’m not wearing that,” Dew said. He reminded himself he needed to stay strong, no matter what his gut tells him. He needed to focus on one thing at a time. He’d get out of here soon.

“Why not?”

“I…” Dew realized he was still wearing his binder. It had been on all night. He guessed Anton didn’t notice. If the scientist didn’t even know Dew’s name, how was he supposed to know he was transgender? Did Anton really know nothing about his new so-called “test subject’s” life? How was Dew supposed to adjust to all this change and have to come out to this freak who kidnapped him and called himself a scientist, who could so easily do anything he wanted with him if he chose to?

“I-I wanna go home,” Dew said, tears forming in his eyes again. He didn’t know what help that would do, but it was worth a shot.

Anton walked over to him, and Dew stood. He realized just how much bigger Anton was than him. He easily towered at least a foot over Dew, who was a measly 5’3. Great. Dew cursed himself for being so small for someone in his early 20s. He didn’t stand a chance against his captor.

“Dew,” Anton put his hands on Dew’s shoulders. “You’re my test subject now. I know, that’s probably hard to accept, and I’ll give you all the time to adjust that you need, okay? I’ll get you food, just put that on and you can ask me whatever questions you need to.”

“Why are you doing this?” He choked out, refusing to make eye contact.

“I need a test subject, like I said. I couldn’t keep experimenting on myself, it was getting too dangerous.” Great. So Dew would be expecting a whole world of excruciating pain and agony soon then, huh. “You’re young and healthy, and you have your whole life ahead of you— which will hopefully be spent here, if all goes well.” Anton gave Dew a few light pats to his cheek and when Dew didn’t say anything more, he left the room.

Dew turned his gaze out the giant window and watched numbly as Anton walked down the stairs and across the lab to a small kitchen area and began heating up some ramen. Dew ignored that dreaded hospital gown and began to look around the lab a bit more, since it was literally his only view.

It was a huge place, with lots of science-y looking things scattered about. There was no other way to describe it really, this place looked exactly like you’d expect a futuristic sci-fi mad scientist’s lab to look like.

There were various large vats of chemicals, most of which were empty. Weird looking plants— which seemed like they were definitely not from Earth— were scattered around the lab, some behind glass barriers. There were giant white boards filled with scientific equations Dew couldn’t understand, as well as a bunch of huge computer monitors towards the back of the room. There were shelves with stacks of brains in jars, various strange looking weapons, and vials with glowing liquids. About a dozen empty cages sat in a corner of the room, all of different sizes. There were papers scattered around a desk, with even more papers stacked on top of it. In the middle of the room was an operating table with different types of restraints, and next to it was a tray filled with dissection tools.

Dew was terrified, as he’d been all morning. Or… night? What time was it? Dew realized he couldn’t see any clocks in there, at least ones he could read. There were a few down by Anton’s science stuff, but they were all 24-hour clocks. Dew cursed himself for never bothering to learn those.

After he was done looking over the room that would probably cause Dew some very bad nightmares in the future, he wandered over to the bathroom. Before he went in, he felt a slight tug on his ankle. Right. He was still chained to one of the bed legs.

He untangled it from under the bed and went to the bathroom. He wasn’t putting on that hospital gown, his clothes were fine. Though, he noticed his shoes and hoodie strings were gone for some reason. Also his headphones and MP3 player. Shit. He’d have to get those back somehow. He didn’t know how he’d survive here for more than a day without his comfort music.

Once Dew was done in the bathroom, he curled up in a corner again, the one by his nightstand, far from the window. After a few more minutes, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs again to the room.

Dew hoped this guy wouldn’t be too mad that he didn’t do what he said, but he was not letting him take his clothes away. Dysphoria was the least thing he needed right now, and he was not about to come out to his kidnapper.

Anton opened the door to Dew’s room to see his test subject huddled up in a different corner, wearing his same clothes. Anton sighed disappointedly, knowing he’d soon have to teach Dew it’s not alright to disobey him.

“Look, if I give you food, will you change your clothes?” Anton asked.

“What time is it?” Dew asked, voice shaking once again. He eyed the glass of water in Anton’s hands, he realized he was incredibly thirsty.

Anton checked his watch, “Around 4:00 AM,” he said. When Dew didn’t respond, Anton crouched down to his level and put the bowl of ramen in his hands. Dew stared blankly at the food when a terrifying thought occurred in his mind. His wide eyes looked up in fear at the scientist, who realized what Dew was thinking.

“I didn’t poison your food,” Anton sighed again. “Look,” He carefully took a spoonful of the ramen and ate it, showing Dew it was safe to eat. Dew hesitantly dug in, though he despised the texture.

After he was done eating, Dew eyed the water. Anton took a small sip before giving it to him, showing it wasn’t drugged. His test subject gulped it down in seconds. Dew stared warily at Anton after that, wondering what his captor was gonna do next.

Anton glanced at the hospital gown, and Dew frantically shook his head. “I’m not wearing that!” He said. Anton sighed.

“Alright, you can stay in your clothes just for today.” Anton said. “But you’ll have to change into that eventually, it’ll make everything much easier for me.” Dew glared at him.

“Anyway, I need to get a DNA sample,” Dew watched as Anton reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. His breath hitched and eyes widened in terror. “I’m gonna need to draw some blood now, okay?”

NO. No this was not okay. Dew frantically shook his head and looked around the room for an escape, but he was completely cornered. “N-no!” Dew’s voice cracked in fear and he couldn’t stop his tears. “No no no no, please—” He cowered deeper into the corner, making himself even smaller. He once again wished he could just disappear.

“What’s wrong?” Anton tilted his head in confusion. Surely his test subject had had his blood drawn before, so what was the problem? “I won’t take that much, I just need a small sample to see—”

“NO!” Dew cried. Great, a panic attack, just what he needed. “Y-you— you d-don’t understand!”

Dew had always had a terrible phobia of needles. He always cursed himself for never getting over that fear, especially since he had to give himself T-shots every week. Oh. That was another thing he’d have to figure out while trapped here.

Anton noticed Dew’s obvious distress, and put the needle down. He wasn’t sure what to do, this was going terribly.

“Dew,” Anton said as he put his hands firmly on his shoulders. “Breathe. Come on, take a deep breath, that’s it.” Anton had never been good at comforting people like this, but he supposed he had to get used to it if he was going to be the one responsible for taking care of his test subject.

“I…” Dew squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He thought about things he loved: music, comic books, that video game he’d been playing recently, and that cartoon character he was currently hyperfixated on. Once he was, for the most part, calmed down, he started speaking again. “I- if you need blood, why couldn’t you’ve just taken it while I was asleep, w-why’d you have to wait until- until—”

“Dew,” Anton squeezed his hands on Dew’s shoulders. “Relax. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I… I-I’m scared of needles.” Dew choked out. Now this weirdo knew his weakness.

“Hm,” Anton murmured. “That’s a problem.” He needed his test subject to trust him, it would only make things easier in the long run. But that obviously wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, so Anton had to try a different approach.

“Dew, if you don’t comply, I’m going to have to force you.” Dew whimpered as Anton picked up the needle again, and took Dew’s left arm in his other hand.

“W-wait,” Dew squeaked, struggling against Anton’s grip. “P-please no, I-I don’t-”

“You don’t want to be sedated again, do you?”

“N-no! No, but- please—”

“Dew, I’m gonna draw some blood, and then I’ll leave you alone for the time being, does that sound good?” Being left alone did sound like what Dew needed right now. He couldn’t stand the thought of being around this creep any longer.

Dew whimpered and nodded his head in defeat. He really was in no position to argue with this maniac. He had no idea who he was or what he was capable of, and he really didn’t want to find out what would happen if he kept disobeying. He’d do what he says for now, and figure out a way out of this place soon.

Anton slowly pushed the needle towards Dew’s elbow, who was now shaking and trying to hold back tears. Dew whimpered when he felt the pinch. It never hurt really, he knew this fear was irrational, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted this to be over and done with so he could be alone.

After Anton got his blood sample, he silently stood up and walked towards the door, taking one last look back at his test subject, who was still curled up in the corner, staring with wide, teary eyes at the scientist.

Anton would have to work on gaining the little guy’s trust later.

. . .

Dew didn’t do much else that day. After Anton had left him, Dew was happy to be alone, wishing he could just curl up with his cat and listen to music, but that wasn’t possible at the moment.

After a while of just huddling in the corner, Dew peaked his head over his bed and out the window. Anton seemed to be doing something with that blood sample. Dew wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what.

He took a breath as he stood, scared that Anton would notice him get up and confront him, but that didn’t happen. Dew slowly took the blankets off the bed and huddled up underneath it again. He always liked being in small, dark spaces, and those bright lights were giving him a headache.

Dew didn’t want to fall asleep, but he didn’t really have much else to do. It wasn’t like he could sleep anyway, with his mind racing with thoughts of needles and pain and mad scientists. He didn’t want to think about what being a “test subject” even entailed, but he was sure he wouldn’t like it. He was a human! He didn’t want to be experimented on like some lab rat!

Dew hugged his blanket and closed his eyes, wishing he was anywhere else.

—

first chapter done!!! this is my first time posting my writing to tumblr (or literally anywhere else), and my first time writing about whump in general so i hope people will like it!! I’m really excited to continue this, i have lots of plans for my blorbos 😈😈

taglist: @whumpinthepot @shywhumpauthor @whump-me-all-night-long

let me know if you wanted to be added to the tag list!

[redd956]

Whump Prompt List: NMA Edition

Based off of my NMA worldbuilding line

AKA Whump that @demondamage would like. AKA: nonhuman whumpees, experiment whump, medical whump, lab whump

CW: Violence, Hospital Whump, Experiment Whump, Nonhuman whumpees, Death Mention, Needles

Draining whumpee's blood in order to centrifuge a special resource from it

Hooking whumpee up to an IV that contains some form of sedative, paralytic, or similar formula inside of it

A physically powerful whumpee needing to be held down by a group, as a sedative is forcefully entered into their system

Whumpee watching their blood exit their veins through a tube, knowing theirs nothing they can do, slowly realizing that they're taking too much

Whumpee getting their blood drained, not knowing if their captors are going to stop before it's too late, or if they plan to get rid of whumpee this way after all

Filing down whumpee's sharp teeth, their pointed claws, sawing off their horns, tying down their tail. Whatever needs to be done to keep the nonhuman whumpee from having an advantage.

Whumpee being kept sedated or out of it, until they are needed for their magic

Muzzled and/or restrained whumpee lashing out at the doctors analyzing

Whumpee's every nonhuman aspect being analyzed, their privacy completely invaded, as doctors poke and prod, crooning over their find

A group of whumpees are captures, and they all fear the worse. However after one is found to be more rare than the others, they quickly discover that for one of them, it's going to be much much worse.

Multiple whumpees getting separated based off of the research that needs to be conducted on them

A limp whumpee, kept down for research, needing to be moved or treated as a comatose patient since the doctors dealing with them are too scared of their abilities

Testing to see what whumpee reacts painfully too, how they heal from the different things tested on them, watching them slowly grow terrified of the scientist opening their door

Taking a marker to whumpee's skin and going to town, preparing for the next set of plans

Forcing whumpee to use their magic or nonhuman abilities far past their limit

Whumpee growing more and more tired as they loose their magic/blood, watching the world darken and the noise of life muffle

Doctors taunting and teasing a heavily restrained whumpee. Whumpee, who is normally such a dangerous creature, can do nothing as they pull on their tail or forcibly spread out their wings

Hands latching onto whumpee's face, moving their head into the position they need to

Whumpee waking to the feeling of fingers prodding for the perfect injection spot

Strapping whumpee down to a table, the doctor admiring their work, thinking they'd never see a nonhuman of this type to work on

Whumpee being returned to a cell full of other nonhuman whumpees after a finish experiment, being plopped down unceremoniously in front of the others, before the doctor looks up to pick the next one

Tattooing whumpee to know what experiment group they belong to

Holding an oxygen mask to whumpee's face, watching as the mist of a sedative kicks in

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee's strapped to a cold steel table with no room to struggle. Whumper holds a needle staring at them hungrily without hardly blinking.

"This won't kill you..." They say, flicking the mid of the needle.

"But depending on how much you struggle, it will hurt you."

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Hey!! Can you please write a drabble where the whumpee has 4,7,9 and 10 from the hurt/comfort prompt list? 😇

Hi anon! I would love to! Thanks for requesting this, and for your patience, here you go! (This one is pretty long, so I put it under the cut!)

From this ask game

Whumpee wrapped the bandages around their torso. It was a bit of a messy job, but it would do the trick to hide the gash from Caretaker a little longer. Whumpee was going to tell them eventually, but they were under a lot of pressure right now and they didn’t need to worry about Whumpee on top of everything else.

“Whumpee, I’m home!” Caretaker called.

Whumpee went to go see Caretaker, but as they took the first step, a dizzy spell hit them and they nearly stumbled. That was odd. Shrugging, Whumpee regained their composure and went down the stairs to see Caretaker.

“Hey!” Whumpee greeted cheerfully.

Caretaker smiled and pulled Whumpee in for a hug. Whumpee tried to hide their wince when Caretaker touched their side.

“Are you feeling okay?” Caretaker asked with a frown, “you’re kind of warm.”

“I feel fine,” Whumpee lied, “you’re probably just cold. Come eat something and you’ll warm right up.”

Whumpee pulled away from Caretaker and started to lead the way into the kitchen. Halfway there though, Whumpee was hit with another dizzy spell. They put their hand on the wall for support.

“Whumpee?”

“’M fine,” Whumpee slurred, “jus’ a dizzy spell.”

As Whumpee spoke, their knees buckled.

“Whumpee!”

Caretaker caught Whumpee from behind and turned them around to face them.

“What’s going on?” Caretaker demanded.

Whumpee watched through blurry vision as Caretaker put a hand to their head.

“Whumpee, you’re burning up!”

“Mm,” Whumpee acknowledged.

Caretaker guided Whumpee over to the couch and laid them down on it. As they did so, the hem of Whumpee’s shirt rose just enough to reveal bloody bandages underneath. Caretaker’s eyes widened.

“Whumpee, what is this?” Caretaker breathed.

“Don’ worry about it, it’s jus’ a scratch.”

Caretaker pulled back the bandages, exposing the wound underneath to cold air. Whumpee shivered a little, though they weren’t sure if it was from the cold in the room or the fever.

“Whumpee, this is infected,” Caretaker said, “we need to get you to a hospital.”

Whumpee’s tired eyes went wide. They propped themselves up on their elbows.

“N-no,” Whumpee protested, “I-I’m fine-”

Caretaker didn’t listen. They helped Whumpee to their feet and grabbed their car keys.

“Caretaker…”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Caretaker said, “we’re taking you to the hospital and that’s that.”

Caretaker guided Whumpee to the car and helped them into the front seat. They buckled their seatbelt for them and ran over to the driver’s side.

…

“Definitely an infection,” the doctor said, snapping on latex gloves, “I’m going to have to medicate it.”

Whumpee cowered on the hospital bed. Caretaker took their hand and squeezed it gently.

“Do we have to?” they asked pitifully.

“If left untreated, your infection could spread to the rest of your body,” the doctor informed them gently, “don’t worry, I’ll administer a topical anesthetic first. You won’t feel a thing.”

The doctor brought over a needle filled with clear liquid. They lifted Whumpee’s hospital gown and injected it into their side. Tears sprung into Whumpee’s eyes, and they cried out in pain.

“That’s it, Whumpee,” Caretaker said quickly, “the worst is over, it’s okay.”

The pain in Whumpee’s side continued to fade until a faint numbness spread throughout it. The doctor worked quickly to clean out the wound and stitch it up.

“I’m going to have to put you on antibiotics,” they said, “to be safe. I’ll have a nurse insert an IV.”

With that, the doctor left the hospital room, leaving Whumpee alone with Caretaker. Whumpee turned to face them and almost recoiled when they saw Caretaker’s armor-piercing glare.

“You are so lucky the infection hadn’t spread yet,” Caretaker scolded, “do you know what I would’ve done if you’d have gotten sepsis!?”

“I’m sorry,” Whumpee said in a small voice, “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

“Whumpee,” Caretaker scoffed, “I’m your partner! You’re supposed to bother me with this kind of stuff!”

At that moment, the nurse entered the room with IV equipment.

“Hello there,” she said warmly, “I’m here to insert your IV.”

Whumpee gulped. Caretaker’s face immediately softened. They ran their thumb across Whumpee’s knuckles soothingly.

“It’ll be okay,” Caretaker said, “just a quick little pinch.”

“Yep,” the nurse said, “and then you’ll start to feel better.”

Whumpee looked away as the nurse inserted the needle into the crook of their elbow. They winced and fought back tears as they felt the pinch. Then, it was over.

“Good job, Whumpee,” Caretaker said, “good job.”

“Someone will be back to check on you in a few hours,” the nurse said, walking to the door.

The nurse left the room, closing the door behind her. Whumpee looked at Caretaker again.

“Are you still mad?” Whumpee asked.

“No,” Caretaker sighed, “I can’t stay mad at you. I was just scared, that’s all.”

Whumpee squeezed Caretaker’s hand.

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” Whumpee said.

Caretaker reached over and hugged Whumpee. Whumpee leaned into Caretaker’s embrace. Soon, they’d be well again, they’d get to go home, and never try to hide something like this from Caretaker again.

----------------------------

ko-fi

tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

Needle Whump prompts

The quickening of Whumpee's breaths through their nose as Whumper brings out a syringe

Whumpee frantically stretches their arm towards the phone, but before they can call for help, Whumper steps down HARD on their arm/hand. Bonus points if Whumper breaks or fractures Whumpee's arm or hand in the process.

Oxygen masks. IVs. Tubes. Whumpee waking up to being in them and ripping out the tubes and IV, and yanking off the oxygen mask. Bonus points if the heart monitor beeps louder and faster - until Whumpee rips the electrodes off their chest, and the machine goes silent

Hero is kidnapped by Villain. Hero expects to be viciously tortured, but instead, Villain becomes Caretaker, gently treating Hero's wounds from all of their missions that had been left un-cared for.

Caretaker screaming and reaching for Whumpee who is also screaming, too frightened to be seperated from Caretaker, but doctors are swarming Caretaker and forcing them away. Bonus points if Caretaker is so agitated by the thought of leaving Whumpee even for a minute, that they have to be sedated.

[soursagas]

Sew up, saw down

content: needles and sewing. In human flesh; food talked about.

-

There might’ve been a time where the art of needle-threading, of making intricate designs would’ve interested them. Particularly the flowers, the orchids and lotus’ as they sat next to a stream, the whole image sewn onto fabrics.

Now the thought of ever seeing the small thin rod was enough to send them into a panic.

He had taken to drugging them with local anesthesia, the sounds of their crying and whines of agony “disrupting his thought process.” Clearly it hadn’t disrupted enough.

Their mind flashed to one of the first days, when they had first seen the seeing machine. Unlike the small ones they had seen in stores, painted and cutely decorated, this one looked plain, and brand new.

As if it had been waiting for them.

Those days had been worse. They were not yet used to the constant prickly pain, even less so when the stitches started.

They didn’t know how much worse the added horror they felt made it. Feeling the needle slide in and out was a constant reminder of what was happening. Their skin was being stitched up. Patched to different fabrics. The sounds of their horrified crying ignored.

Perhaps they really do ought be more appreciative of the anesthesia.

When they asked why not knock them out completely, they were met with:

“Because then you’ll become all floppy! Like a noodle. I don’t sew on noodles.”

The next day while scribbling on his poster size papers half of it was covered with marinara sauce stains. Chopsticks in hand he held a handful of noodles up to his mouth with one hand as the other continued hastily writing or drawing or whatever he does.

What message this was attempting to send, if one at all, they did not know. But in the midst of their numb arms and legs, all they felt was their stomach, and their mouth watering at the smell of the delicious food he had.

He barely fed them anything at first, seemingly forgetting that without nutrition their physical state would decline. Then returned semi good small meals.

Better than starvation, they guessed.

They must’ve made a noise, because his head perked up, and looked at them. Instead of getting up, he half-way stood and reached across the table to where they were pinned against an intricate board and shoved the serving of pasta in their mouth.

Part of it still spilling out, and with only their head mobile, they chewed and swallowed, well aware of the mess partly caused by them (mostly caused by him though).

Seeing as he continued his…artistic work on his own, they had no other choice but to keep laying there, and continue to attempt to get lost in their daydreams.

made myself not feel good feelings while writing ab the food. That s not my thing what happened

my friend said sleep lots so here am writing n the middle of night hours

[the-whumping-hour]

tWo hundred Words of Whump (personal challenge): 8/28

CW: creepy whumper, informal medical whump, needles

---

“Seventy-eight dollars, wasn’t it?”

“Lillian, please, it- it was an honest mistake, I couldn’t check the amount and I–”

“Stop talking. The fact is you owe me seventy-eight dollars. Your words can’t change the fact.”

“I really–”

“No. Shh, stop it. Lay down.”

Felic tries to settle themself as best they can on the comforter, heart pounding at a dizzying speed as Lillian preps… whatever she’s doing. They see a needle and a vial and her scowl, in concentration as much as it is in anger. 

“Hike your shirt up, just below your ribs.” They comply as she finishes and sets her tray on the bedside table. “You can count if you’d like. I don’t care either way.”

Looking at the syringe makes them sick, so they opt for the ceiling instead. The first poke goes in between two ribs and they let out a sharp fuck before they can stop themself, but the pain is over in a second. She moves on to the next one quick. It’s not awful, if they have to be honest, not nearly as bad as the shit she usually gets up to, even if it will be what–seventy-eight?–of them..

And that’s when the burning starts.

[snaillamp]

Vaccination Day

Enjar folded his hands onto his lap, threading his fingers together in an effort to hide he shaking. He read the advertisements along the desk again, trying to get his mind off what was coming. One was about asthma and staying safe in winter, one was about diabetes and talking to the doctor about some new, fancy blood glucometer and the last poster… the one that kept sending chills down his spine: Get your flu shot today! Prevent the spread of the flu! The flu stops with you!

He turned back to the glucometer ad, shuddering. Enjar had never liked needles, who did? But as his eyes flicked to the deep scars on his arms, he remembered the doctors. The needles poking him, hurting him… He could’t make them stop as he was strapped to the bed, the cannula hurting his arm as…

Vaccination day was always the worst. He had always hated needles, but now, they were a weapon, bringing back memories he'd rather forget.

“Svenson, Ulrich?”

A young doctor looked up at the group of people waiting in line. An old man pushed up and out of a chair, cane shaking as he got to his feet. He shuffled toward the man. The doctor greeted him, helping him into his office.

Out of the corner of his eye, Enjar felt someone sit next to him, causing him to twitch a little. Glancing at who it was, his eyes sparked in recognition. “Hello Enjar.” Dr Fayed murmured, smiling warmly. “You look a lot better than last time I saw you, good to see you’re doing well.” The man’s thick accent calmed Enjar, who smiled back, nodding as he tucked a little bit of hair behind his ear. His fingers brushed the scar on his face as he did, before he sat back and looked over at his friend.

“Thank you, Ahmed…” He looked around, wondering what to say. “Uh, how’s things with you?” Dr Fayed laughed, “Ahhh, you know. Two teenagers in the house and a busy work life. My wife says I’m married to the job as much as I am her!” He chuckled again, twisting his wedding ring. “I’ve actually organised a reservation in the city for her birthday, I even flew in her brother from France. She has no idea.” The man grinned wickedly. “I’ve been planning it for months.”

Enjar couldn’t help but snort at the doctor’s grin. “You’re a piece of work, Ahmed.” Enjar murmured, watching as a doctor he didn’t recognise stepped into the waiting room. “Ahh, that’s Dr Hillmar, new in town. I hear he’s pretty good… Big city hotshot if you ask me.” Dr Fayed snickered, before leaning back and patting his stomach. “Nielson, Enjar.” The doctor spoke, and Enjar froze, his stomach dropped like he had just hurtled down a rollercoaster.

“You got this, big guy.” Dr Fayed patted his shoulder, breaking Enjar out of his frozen state. He stood, letting out a breath, before approaching the doctor. ‘Trust me to get the new guy. Where’s Dr Bloch when I need her?’ Enjar thought as he swallowed his anxiety. Dr Bloch always knew how to work with him to make him feel calm, to get him through the injection…

“Nielson, Enj-oh.” Dr Hillmar looked down at Enjar, who had approached him. The doctor was at least 6 foot, compared to Enjar’s smaller 5'8. Enjar watched the usual eye movements as the doctor’s watery blue eyes danced over his scars. He clenched his jaw, making the scar ripple a little, a subtle way to remind the doctor there was still a person under the scar he was gawking at. Enjar usually wouldn’t mind people staring at his scars, but he wasn’t in the mood today.

He inhaled, making himself look slightly bigger as the doctor met his stormy, grey eyes. “Mr Nielson?” Dr Hillmar raised his eyebrows, looking slightly nervous. Enjar nodded, clenching his jaw harder to hide his anxiety. “Right this way…” Dr Hillmar gestured timidly, guiding Enjar to his office.

“Uh, take a seat and I’ll be with you in a second.” Dr Hillmar pointed at the uncomfortable plastic chair sat by the door. Next to it was a wall decal, a giraffe with heights for children marked on its; neck. Dr Hillmar sat by his desk, typing away at his computer, pulling up a file and reading it. Enjar could tell from where he was sitting it was his medical files, the short, curt message, completely useless to explain how he got his scars. Below that, a new note had been added, presumably from his last trip to the hospital… Enjar winced, remembering how awful he had been to the nurses.

“Soooooo… Mr Nielson, you’re here for a checkup and a vaccination, correct?” Dr Hillmar’s bravado was returning slightly as he spun in his cushy leather chair to face Enjar, who nodded. “You’re uh, a quiet one, huh?” Enjar shrugged. “That’s fine.” Dr Hillmar chirped, reaching over to his desk and grabbing a fancy stethoscope.

He watched Enjar for a second, studying him as Enjar did the same, each man taking in the other’s face. Enjar was good at reading people, he could tell the doctor was intimidated by his appearance, but he could only hope his own nervousness was well hidden behind a scowl. He didn’t want a repeat of last year.

“So, let’s start. Uh, it says in your files that you’ve had some bad experiences with medical professionals. Just know that here, you’re safe and anything you say or do is confidential. Any time you need a break, just let me know.” Dr Hillmar smiled, trying his best to break through Enjar’s scowl. All Enjar could do was nod. He just wanted Dr Bloch.

“You must be wondering, Dr Bloch has moved to another practice and I will be taking on her patients, she left some notes about you, actually. Let me see…” The doctor stood, reaching to the shelf covered in folders as he pulled a large, fat red one onto the desk flicking through. “Ah, here it is. Uhhhhh,” The doctor hummed as he skimmed the notes. “Pretty much what it says on your file. Just take it slow…” He frowned, mumbling to himself. “Huh… weird everyone else is so detailed… She was never one to miss anything… weird.” He replaced the folder, turning back to Enjar who was reading a poster tacked to the wall.

It had a person, all the layers of muscle, bone and organs revealed, listing them all. Dr Hillmar glaced at it, before grinning. “You like it? It’s a new one.” Enjar could tell the doctor was desperately trying to befriend him, but that made him want to shut off even more. “Did you want to start?” Dr Hillmar asked, leaning forward. Enjar nodded, sighing. “Sure.” Dr Hillmar smiled, thinking he’d made progress.

“Hop up on the bed there for me.” The doctor asked, Enjar complying. He watched the doctor prepare, gathering a few tools and cleaning his hands. The man was older than him, probably in his 50’s, his red hair slowly thinning and greying. He had a scratchy beard and a small, barely noticeable tattoo on his right wrist. It looked like a date. He wore black, rectangular glasses, pushed high up on a large nose and as he got closer, Enjar noticed a hole in his ear, a former piercing probably.

His dress shirt and pants were neatly ironed and his shoes were shiny, fancy leather ones, all pulled together with a red, silk tie. A large leather belt sat around his waist, the buckle engraved with a bear paw print. Enjar’s nose twitched as he caught a whiff of the doctor’s cologne. It smelled musky.

“Okay, we’ll go head to toe, so just let me know if you need a minute. Nice and slow, I promise.” Dr Hillmar sighed as he pulled out a light. “Can you just pull your hair back for me, please?” Enjar complied, reaching up and tying his hair up with a spare hair tie, feeling the scars on his arms tug slightly as his arms moved to the strange angle.

“Wonderful. Okay, follow my finger with your eyes for me.” Dr Hillmar instructed, watching as Enjar’s eyes locked onto his finger, following it closely. “Okay, now I’ll just flash a little light in your eyes, let me know if it’s too bright.” The doctor flashed a small penlight in each eye, comparing them. “Wonderful. I’ll do your ears now. You haven’t had any issues with hearing? I read that you’ve been knocked unconscious a few times.” Enjar glanced at the doctor as he put an otoscope in his left ear, looking at his lips smile as he saw a presumably healthy ear canal. “So no issues?” “Nope.” Enjar replied, as the other ear was checked. He kind of liked the feeling of the cold, smooth tube in his ear.

“Alright then, mouth time! Open wide, I’ll put this stick on your tongue, it’ll be quick I promise.” Enjar’s jaw tightened before he opened his mouth, he hated tongue depressors. Dr Hillmar placed it on his tongue, pressing down a little too far back in his mouth. Enjar gagged a tiny bit, pulling his head away, the memories of the tube crammed down his throat flashing through his mind. “Oh, are you alright?” Dr Hillmar asked, kneeling down to meet Enjar’s eyes. After a couple of breaths, Enjar nodded, opening his mouth and balling up his fists as the doctor checked again. After a few seconds of brief panic, he settled and felt fine, the doctor finishing that section of his exam. “Well everything looks healthy up there. Did you want to move onto your chest or do something else first.” Enjar looked at his lap, appreciating being given the choice. ‘Ahmed was right, he is good.’

“Something else first, thanks…” Dr Hillmar smiled at Enjar’s reply, nodding softly. “Okay, well take off your shoes for me and we can do a few more checks. Enjar complied, placing his shoes on the floor beside the plastic seat. “Okay, just stand here on the wall for me, nice and straight.” The doctor reached up, pulling the measuring device down to touch Enjar’s head. “Wonderful, and just take a few steps forward for me.”

“Good.”He pointed at a poster next to the anatomical one. “Just read those off for me, top to bottom.”

“A, X, R, V, M, Q, R, T, U, Y, O, L, K.”

“Awesome. Jump back on the bed, and I’ll test something else.” Enjar could tell the doctor was stalling a little. He didn’t mind that though, so he sat back on the edge of the bed, watching as Dr Hillmar stood in front of him. Sitting on the bed, they were almost the same height.

“Okay, just grab onto my hands for me, wonderful. Squeeze them tight for me.” Dr Hillmar’s hands were soft, unlike Enjar’s own calloused ones. He squeezed hard, until the doctor gasped slightly. “That’s good, that’s good. My, you’re a strong guy, what do you do?” Looking at the doctor, Enjar blinked, not expecting his strength to be brought up. “Lighthouse keeper. Though I do a lot of work for the coastguard too.” Dr Hillmar’s eyes widened, “That would explain the muscle. And just pull your right arm against mine, good, now your left. Wonderful.” Dr Hillmar kneeled down, looking at Enjar’s feet. “I’m just going to touch your feet, alright.” He placed his palms against the bottom of Enjar’s feet before looking up at him. “Wonderful, just press down for me. Good.”

Standing back up, he checked the nervous response of Enjar’s knees, tapping them with a small hammer, making them kick out. “Well… I’ve done everything else. You ready for me to check your chest?” Dr Hillmar smiled at Enjar again, who nodded, the anxiety in his stomach twitching. “Okay, just pull your shirt off for me. I promise I’ll be quick.” Enjar was beginning to feel annoyed, the doctor was coddling him a little. ‘I’ll be quick, I’ll be quick… I know, you keep saying it.’ His thoughts flashed through his head as he tugged off his shirt.

“Ready?” Dr Hillmar lifted up his stethoscope. Enjar nodded. “Okay. I’ll listen to your heart, then your lungs alright?” Nodding again, Enjar straightened, before the cold bell of the stethoscope touched his skin, sending goosebumps prickling over his body. The doctor listened for a moment, before moving to a new space, lower down, then another, more to the side of his chest. “Beautiful. Alright deep breath in.” He asked, placing the bell back on the front of Enjar’s chest. “And another.” This time, Dr Hillmar placed it on the other side of his chest.

“Again. Good. Once more on this side. Wonderful.”

Enjar watched as Dr Hillmar stepped to the side, “Just lean forward a little, I want to listen to your back too.” They repeated the process, Dr Hillmar nodding happily when he was done. “I’ll just check your stomach, then you can put your stuff back on, okay?” Enjar nodded again, he wasn’t looking forward to this. “Just lie back for me.” The doctor patted the bed.

Enjar lay back, sighing as he stared at the ceiling. “I apologise if I have cold hands. I’ll just press down a little then I want to check the scars from your surgery, then we’ll be done.” Enjar nodded, shutting his eyes as the doctor pressed gently on his abdomen. He went around in a circle, pressing four places with the flat of his hand, feeling for anything out of the ordinary.

“Good, I’ll just move your pants down a little, is that okay? I just need a better look at your mower abdomen.” “Mhmm…” Enjar mumbled, breathing in calm, slow breaths. The doctor moved the hem of his pants down, examining the scars from his appendectomy. He pressed them a little, making Enjar twitch. “Ah, still tender, sorry. How long has it been since the surgery?”

Enjar’s mind danced around dates, trying to remember. “6 months, give or take.” He grunted as the doctor pressed the other scar. “You had a laparoscopic surgery?” “Yeah…” Enjar’s head began to feel fuzzy and the doctor stepped back, he could feel the anxiety gripping his mind more. ‘This isn't that place...’

“Okay, all done. You can sit up now... Mr Nielson?” Enjar groaned, squeezing his eyes tight before opening them, sitting up slowly. “Are you feeling okay?” Dr Hillmar asked, looking concerned. “Yeah… just a little tense… I’m fine.” Enjar reached over to his shirt, pulling it back on, the room feeling quite cold all of a sudden. He shivered a little, before hopping off the bed to replace his shoes. “And we’re almost done, just the vaccination now. Uhh, I see here you have an… ‘aversion to needles’ is that right?”

Enjar looked up at Dr Hillmar, frowning as he glanced at his notes. That was a new one. Must have been Dr Mathieson, maybe Dr Singh. “Something like that…” he mumbled in reply. His mind drifted to his last hospital stay, ripping the cannula from his arm and throwing it at the wall. “You’re not prone to fainting are you, cause I don’t think I’m strong enough to catch you!” Dr Hillmar joked awkwardly, waving his smaller arms. Enjar certainly had more muscle than he did, the doctor was probably lucky to be 80 kg soaking wet. Shaking his head, Enjar sighed, taking a seat back in the chair. “I just… haven’t had great experiences with them. I uh… was treated for injuries in a pretty traumatic way.” He gestured at his arms. He heard the doctor hum, “Did you want to eleaborate? It’s okay if you don’t.”

Enjar shook his head, “No, may as well… I was injured, loosing a lot of blood, barely conscious… The medics, the doctors were just trying to keep me alive. They stuck me with so many needles I just… They remind me of that time… It makes me… quite anxious.” Enjar chose his words carefully, he didn’t want to overwhelm himself, or spill too much... if he went into anymore details, he might actually collapse.

“Well, we will look after you, you’re safe here, I promise. I’ll go get the nurse to prepare the vaccine for you.” Dr Hillmar stood and slipped from the room, leaving Enjar to lay back in the seat and breathe. He rested his head against the wall and sighed, soothing the rising anxiety creeping up his throat. ‘It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re not there, you’re here…’ He repeated his mantra in his head, before he heard the door squeak open, making him jump. “Oh, my apologies. The nurse is here now, just sit tight, or did you want to lie down?” Dr Hillmar offered the bed with a gesture, but Enjar shook his head, swallowing his fear. His stubbornness was playing up again, he wasn’t going to take the bed, no one else did, why should he?

The young nurse walked in, all the pieces ready to go. Enjar watched as she prepared the injection, his stomach tingling as she did. She handed the needle to Dr Hillmar, who thanked her before walking up to Enjar. “Alright, which arm do you want it in?” Enjar sighed, thinking for a second, before looking back at the doctor. “Left.” He eyed the needle, long and sharp, glinting in the light. It looked a lot longer up close than it had a second ago.

“Okay, just relax your arm for me.” Dr Hillmar directed, as Enjar fixed his stare at the anatomy poster. He felt the cold cleansing wipe clean his skin, before a sharp prick and a flood of cold fluid into his arm. He felt mostly fine, except the temperature of the fluid making him feel a little dizzy. ‘Huh... No flashbacks, great!’ He thought as glanced over at the needle, watching it slide out from inside him, before a cotton wad was placed neatly over the small hole it left. A glimmer of hope beginning to burn in him, he had made progress and hadn’t even realised it.

“And we’re done. I’ll just ask you to stay in the waiting room for 15 minutes so we can monitor you and then you can go. All just standard procedure from here.” Dr Hillmar instructed. Enjar smiled softly, thanking him, before standing. He took a step, before his vision blurred, spots spinning around him and the world going black as he came crashing down onto the cold, hard floor.

~~

Dr Peter Hillmar smiled at the strange man sitting next to him. He didn’t know what all the fuss had been about, the man took the needle without even a flinch. “Thank you, Dr Hillmar.” The man spoke in a low, quiet voice, glancing up at him with tired, grey eyes.

Peter watched as he stood, before frowning as the blood suddenly drained from the man’s face. As he took a step, his pupils grew wide, before his eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the floor. “Oh!” The young nurse cried as she leapt back. Peter’s mind jumped into action. He rolled Enjar’s limp body over, pressing his fingers into his neck. The man’s pulse was racing, sweat beading on his forehead. “Get Dr Dahlvig!” His tone urgent as he spoke to the young nurse, who nodded, racing from the room.

“Mr Nielson? Enjar? Can you hear me?” Peter raised his voice, shaking Enjar’s chest as he tried to make him wake up. Nothing. “Shit. Come on, wake up for me, Enjar.”

The nurse returned with the senior doctor of the practice, Dr Clara Dahlvig. “Peter? Oh, what’s happened here?” She asked, leaning down to assess his patient. “Don’t know, he just went out like a light.” Clara looked at Enjar’s face, frowning. “Ahhh, I know him. Enjar Nielson, right? Something is always up with this guy. Weird, he’s never collapsed like this before though.” She mumbled, feeling the pulse in his wrist. “He hit his head hard?” She asked, slipping on some gloves and feeling Enjar’s skull. “No idea, he just went down like a rag doll.”

Clara nodded, before pulling her stethoscope out and putting it in her ears. She listened to the man’s chest, counting the breaths. “He seems fine, he’s just fainted I think. Maybe get him up on your exam bed, let him come to. If he isn’t around in a few minutes I might get you to call an ambulance.” She helped Peter lift the heavy man up onto the examination bed, before huffing and leaving the room.

“Ah, Dr Fayed, could you come here for a second?” She asked, standing outside the door. Peter glanced around, not recognising the name. There wasn’t a Dr Fayed at this practice was there? He watched the door as a short, stout man walked in, glanced around and spotted Enjar, slumped on the bed. “Oh no… What’s happened?” He asked, his voice sympathetic. “Don’t know, I was hoping you might know, you know him right?” The new doctor nodded. “Well, I shouldn't say much... but off the record, yes I do. What happened?”

The doctor’s strongly accented voice broke Peter out of his stupor. “Uh, just collapsed after a vaccination. Blood drained from his face and he went down.” Dr Fayed frowned, “Maybe it was the needle, what happened last vaccination?” He asked Clara. “Bloch and I watched him hyperventilate for about 10 minutes before he was fine and took the injection like nothing happened. He was a little shaky after but nothing out of the ordinary.” Peter huffed exasperatedly, it seemed all the doctors knew this guy.

At that moment, Enjar groaned, turning his head as he came around. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared blankly at the room, not recognising it. “Be quiet, he might be reliving something, let him come back in his own time…” Dr Fayed whispered, looking at the man’s glazed over eyes. Peter frowned, this Dr Fayed guy knew a lot more about Enjar than he was letting on.

Outside the room, someone dropped something, causing a loud clatter. All four people in the room cringed as an old man yelled a loud, angry, “FUCK!”

The young nurse slipped from the room, pulling the door shut to help the old man, but the damage was already done. Enjar stiffened, eyes wide as his breathing quickened, becoming uneven and gasping. He pushed himself up, before trying to get off the bed, but the second his feet touched the floor, his knees buckled. Faling to the ground, shaking as tears streamed from his face, moaning low, panicked words. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…”

He gasped, pressing his head into the floor, his entire body quivering. Peter reached out to touch him, his fingers barely grazing the man’s shoulder, but Enjar ’s hand shot up, grabbing his wrist and yanking it, pulling Peter to the floor. Peter yelped as he wigged, trying to get out from the Enjar’s grip as the man pressed a knee firmly on his chest, pinning him down.

He looked up in horror, at the man who had seemed so withdrawn and quiet a moment ago now baring his teeth and growling, eyes wild and angry. “Hey, what’s-your-name?” Dr Fayed hissed at Peter. “Dr Hillmar.” He replied. “Dr Hillmar, stop struggling. You’re making it worse. Just close your eyes and take a deep breath, go as still as possible.” Peter followed the order, closing his eyes and breathing deep, letting his body relax.

“Good, good.” His chest hurt as Enjar pressed into it harder. “Enjar, it’s Ahmed. Can you hear me? I need you to stand down, this man is not a threat.” Peter opened an eye to glance at Enjar, who’s eyes seemed to spark with a semblance of recognition. They danced from side to side as his grip loosened around Peter’s wrists. “Stand down. Stand down.” Dr Fayed spoke firmly, talking to Enjar like a superior officer in the army might, was this guy ex-millitary or something?

Peter watched as Enjar blinked, his weight shifting off his chest and life coming back into his eyes. He grunted, skittering back and pressing himself into the corner where the bed and wall met “Get away from me...”

“Hey, look at me Enjar, you’re okay.” Dr Fayed knelt down speaking softly as Enjar’s breathing quickened again. “Look at me. Do you know who I am?” Enjar glanced up at Dr Fayed, jaw shuddering a little, before he stuttered a name. “A-A-Ahm-Ahmed…” Dr Fayed nodded, “Yes, and what’s your name?” Enjar looked at his hands, whispering his name. “Enjar…” Dr Fayed nodded again, “And where are you Enjar?” Peter watched as the shaking man’s breathing calmed, and he rubbed his eyes. “At the GP’s clinic…” He groaned loudly, leaning back against the wall and placing an arm over his eyes.

~~

Enjar felt like he’d been hit by a high speed train as he suddenly realised where he was. Dr Fayed asked him where he was and his spinning mind suddenly slowed as he focused on his surroundings, making him feel even more nauseous. “At the GP’s clinic…” He groaned, embarrassment flooding his body. What had he done? He could vaguely remember grabbing something that had attacked him. Lifting his arm off his face, he looked at Dr Hillmar, sitting on the ground looking shaken. “Wait… whaddid I do..” He mumbled, words slurring slightly as he fought to keep his eyes open. “Hey, Enjar, stay with me.” Dr Fayed reached out, “I’m going to touch your shoulder, okay?” All Enjar could manage was a weak “Mhmm…” as he focused all his energy to staying awake, it felt like it was draining from him with every breath.

Dr Fayed’s hand touched his shoulder, and Enjar pressed his cheek into it. The hand, Ahmed's hand, squeezed his shoulder hard and Enjar closed his eyes, feeling the floor under his fingertips, hearing his breath and heartbeat, and feeling the squeeze. After a moment, he opened his eyes and tried to stand, his legs unstable. Dr Fayed help stabilise him, and after a few breaths, the finally world stopped spinning around him. He stared at the ground, not making eye contact with anyone. “What did I do?” He whispered again, haunted and shaken.

Dr Fayed frowned, “Don’t you remember?” Shaking his head, Enjar’s shoulders drooped. “Ever since the appendicitis… I’ve just been a little easier to tip over the edge, and I remember less and less. I just need time to get back to where I was and I'll…” Dr Fayed sympathetically wrapped him in a hug. He knew all too well how much it hurt being pushed back in recovery. “I was better… then that stupid infection…” Enjar's voice cracked as he whispered into Dr Fayed’s shoulder, a tear falling from his eye.

Standing up straighter, he wiped his face. “What happened? I need to know.” Dr Hillmar stepped forward. “I uh, touched you and you pinned me to the ground. You were... You weren't there, behind your eyes, there was nothing.”

Enjar took a step back, swallowed his anxiety again, looking at the doctor squarely. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you.” Dr Hillmar smiled, easing the tension a little. “Just my ego. I’m fine, I promise. It’s you I’m worried about. Hop up on the table, I wanna check you over.” Turning his head slowly, Enjar sighed.

Dr Hillmar waved the rest of the people in the room away as Enjar laid back, eyes glazed over as his blood pressure was checked, then his oxygen saturation, heart rate, respiratory rate, everything the doctor could think of. “Have you ever fainted like this before?” He looked over at Enjar. “No…”

Dr Hillmar hummed, checking Enjar’s pulse again. “Well, I think you just... fainted. I’d like to observe you for a little longer though. Check out in the waiting room and I’ll see you in 30 minutes.” Enjar groaned as he sat slowly, before shuffling to the waiting room and sliding into a seat with a grunt.

He noticed someone idle over. “You look awful.” Dr Fayed pointed out. Placing his head in his hands, Enjar rubbed his face, trying to get rid of the haze in his brain. “At least I’m vaccinated…” His tone sarcastic as he feigned joy. Sitting up, he slumped back in the chair staring at the clock on the wall.

“I’ll shout you a coffee, you and me.” Dr Fayed suggested, looking at Enjar, who’s eyes slowly moved to meet his. “Mmmmph… I can’t ask you to do that, Ahmed.” Dr Fayed shook his head, smiling. “It is of no problem for me. I promise, think of it as a friend looking out for his friend.” Rolling his eyes, Enjar smirked, “Fine.”

They sat together in silence for a while, before Dr Fayed leaned in and murmured something, causing Enjar to stiffen. “I still go to meetings, you know. You should swing by, catch up. People have been asking about you.”

Enjar pulled his had through his hair, grimacing. “I- I’ll think about it. Its’ been 3 years, I just… Wanna move on, but the world won’t let me. Every time I think I’m fine, I get someone breaking into my home or I get sick, or I collapse… I’m just tired, Ahmed… I want to be okay again… For good.” Staring at his arms, he traced the thick scars.

“I’m seeing Dr Dall next week... Dr Singh told me to see her… I finally got around to booking it.” Dr Fayed placed a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “I understand. But the burdens we carry, they are not something we will ever stop carrying. Instead you have to train your mind, make it stronger, so that the load is easier to carry. It will always be there, but you can carry it. You’re stronger than you know, my friend.” Enjar smiled weakly, nodding. “I wish I felt it.”

Dr Hillmar came out and did a quick check over of Enjar before nodding and dismissing him. Dr Fayed followed him out as they wandered down the street to a cafe. “So I just fainted for no reason? Great.” Enjar grumbled, scuffing his foot into the concrete. “I’ll add that to list of things that’s wrong with me. PTSD, scars, no appendix, and now faints after needles.” Enjar’s sarcastically gleeful tone made Dr Fayed laugh as they took a seat at a table in the sun. A young waiter came out to take their order, before rushing back inside. “Hmmmm…” The doctor hummed, staring at the sky.

Enjar raised his eyebrow, curious. “What you thinking about?” The doctor looked at Enjar and smiled, “In a week it’ll be 7 years since we left Syria.” Enjar nodded, “Oh… Alright.” Dr Fayed smiled, pleased at the response. “See, you get it.” He looked up as their coffee arrived, thanking the waiter. “You know how to respond.” The two men looked at each other for second, before they both left the conversation at that. They both knew they didn’t need to add anymore to it.

“So your anniversary? How many years of marriage?” Enjar piped up, enjoying to warmth of the coffee as he sipped it, it made him feel slightly less dead inside. “20 years. Best 20 years of my life.”

The men talked for a while before they both finished up, going back to their respective cars and driving off. As he got drove, Enjar kept thinking about what the doctor had said to him.

When he got inside his cabin, he picked up Ulrich’s skull and sat it on the dining table, looking at it. “What do you think? Should I go back? I want to but all those people… their stories… They made me so sad. They all went through way worse stuff than I did… I shouldn’t complain. They have a reason to be traumatised.”

The seagull’s eye sockets stared blankly back at him. “I don’t have to go back if I don’t want to, right? Like Dr Dall said, if I don’t want to be there I can leave.” He picked up the skull and held it in his hands. It was so light, so delicate. He could crush it in his hand if he wanted to…

“I guess you’re like me huh? Breakable. Then again, I guess all people are.” He placed the seagull back on the mantle above the fire, before climbing the tower and setting up the light.

He stood on the balcony watching the churning black sea for a while, enjoying the taste of the wind and the sound of the waves. He was better than he had been when he first took over this place, but he knew he could be even better than that. He wanted to be. “I promise to be better, for you guys…” He whispered looking at the stars as a slight breeze picked up. He felt his team smile and for the first time in a long time, the weight felt a little easier to carry.

~masterlist~

~taglist~ - lmk if you wanna be added :D

@emcscared-whumps

[shootingstarpilot]

OKAY WELL IF YOU ALL INSIST-

listen. listen. i'm a sucker for hurt and dazed whumpees stumbling into exactly where they need to be. i love it. i love rescuing yourself and paying the price for it.

so. all that being considered-

it's been a month and a half since needle vanished.

one month, two weeks, five days, sixteen hours and counting-

and then he shows up at the temple doors.

helix is outside with mimic and stitch. they've extended the search off-planet. they're booked to head out this afternoon. neither the jedi nor the guard can expend the resources of an army, and every warm body helps-

then stitch looks up from his datapad, gaze focusing on something behind helix's left ear.

here's what helix will remember, afterwards, of that first shock-still moment when he turns around:

needle's hair is clumped with dried blood. his lips are chapped and bitten raw. his gaze flickers and jumps, looking but not seeing. a blot of dark red stains the front of his shirt, growing with every passing second-

"can you tell me where i am?" he asks the air in front of him. "hello? can you tell me where i am?"

stitch is the first one to reach him. catches his hands as needle's legs give out, pitching him onto the pavement and then it's the two of them, kneeling-

"up the walls," needle murmurs, and his voice skips like a record-player as he speaks- "keep up-up-up, up into the sky- hello? are you friendly? can you tell me where i am?"

helix slip-slides onto his knees in front of them, breath strangled in his lungs and the words caught with them- he reaches, rests his hand against the back of needle's neck, feels the radiating heat-

just for a moment, a singular moment, before needle says, "please don't."

helix drops his hand like he's been burnt, opens his mouth but needle beats him to it- the sound is like a laugh but his face twists like a scream-

"done with that," he says, and again- that little strangled shriek- "done, please. all done. all- i forgot the words. i forgot. i got- forgot- can you tell me where i am? hello? can you tell me where i am?"

he's not looking at them.

stitch's fingers flicker and jump, tap-tap-tapping along the back of needle's hands, feeling- crooked joints, swollen joints, feeling- poorly-healed breaks, breaks that didn't heal at all, feeling-

slippery.

needle laughs. an odd little barking sound. unfocused eyes flicker. "my brother- my brother, i miss my- he does- keeps it all straight, he says- where's my brother? up the walls, up-up-up. sky cracked open. where's my brother? hello? hello? can you tell me where i am?"

up the walls.

blood drip-drip-drips from scratched-open palms. from fingertips worn down to the bone.

"needle," stitch says. a little gasping sound. "needle?"

needle's head jerks to the side. "my name," he murmurs. "not mine but i stole it. makes it mine. makes it- stitch? stitch?"

his voice cracks.

"stitch?"

it is at this moment that helix realizes needle is blind.

"i'm right here," stitch says- "we're all- needle-"

"stitch," needle repeats. wondering, slowly, lingering over the word- and then he smiles, cracking open like a fault line, too wide- he's missing a tooth-

"got a secret to tell you," he sing-songs. he leans closer, draws a hand up stitch's arm to his shoulder, up his neck to the side of his face and keeps it there- blood smearing across his cheekbone-

"it hurt," he whispers. that too-wide smile. "it hurt more than anything, ever, even more than my head. drip-drip, stitch. i miss singing. i forgot the words. you know the words. please? please? can you tell me where i am?"

"needle," helix says- helpless, disbelieving- "needle, you're at the temple- where- what-"

that little red blot on his shirt. blooming.

the radiating heat.

"ran," needle says, and then starts giggling, terrible little hiccuping laughs- "oooooh, they're angry, i don't want- are you friendly? on the stairs, running- are you friendly?"

"it's me," helix manages- "it's- helix, needle, it's me, me and mimic-" he reaches back blindly and mimic's hand finds his, he pulls him forward and presses his hand over needle's-

needle's head turns. searching, unseeing.

"little ghostie," he says, and then he starts giggling again. "home, please. my brothers- they'll worry. i'd worry. home, please. can you tell me where i am?"

he drops like a puppet with its strings cut.

okay listen. listen. i'm sorry, i had to get this out of my head, it's been haunting me and i want to get back to working on the next proper chapter-

the mimic lives au.

mimic is brought into the fold without question, of course. and needle- oh, needle's borne witness to the nightmares that force helix awake, shaking-not-screaming, and he knows enough-

so he makes mimic a voice.

it takes him just over a week to record the entire gbs dictionary. he breaks it down, keeps it alphabetical so it's easier to find the words. dictionaries of other languages are on the list. needle thinks maybe mimic can pick and choose which ones to prioritize later. they'll have time.

(they'll have time, isn't that a novel thought-)

but the dictionary is only part of it. there are plenty of manufactured voices out there already, after all.

the datapad becomes needle's newest conversational partner. he sets it up when he's on his own and lets his train of thought derail. spinning out stories both real and fantastical. drawing out threads until they reach the boiling point of absurdity and send him into a fit of giggles. he repeats the stories he'd told mimic just that afternoon, tells him about the jedi, about the temple, about making their own home. then he remembers what helix had said about mimic wanting to be a pilot, and goes and bullies comet into educating him on starfighters. he recites his lessons to the camera each evening in the moments of stolen solitude he can squirrel away before one of the others comes looking for him.

"it's like learning another language," he says, and wags a finger at the camera. "you're welcome."

needle gifts it to mimic a week after they arrive at the temple with a wireless earpiece to match. no pressure, of course, he says, grinning, just thought it could be a good resource to have, words to borrow at your fingertips, but i know i'm only tolerable in small doses, so-

he squawks when mimic's hug lifts him clear off the ground.

anyway. so. you see my vision.

helix jumps a mile when he first hears needle's laugh in mimic's mouth. stitch yells at needle for a bit about talking so much, needle, is this why your voice was so hoarse- and then restricts him to tea for four days until he's sure his throat has healed. sometimes it's too much, and mimic will stick his earpiece to the fridge and borrow words spoken right in front of him until his brain stops buzzing-

but it works. they work.

and then.

it's a few months in. they're comfortable. they're setting down roots.

then one night needle doesn't come home.

helix doesn't wait to raise the alarm. needle doesn't spend every night home, but he's good about comming when he'll be staying elsewhere. he knows helix is struggling with letting them leave his line of sight.

and now he's gone. and he didn't comm.

the first three days stretch into a week.

then a second week.

then a month.

and now, the vision that has been HAUNTING ME-

helix, clutching mimic's datapad, sitting on the edge of his bed.

the lights are low. his eyes are red.

he hits play.

"-ah, i love them," needle says, laughing. the laugh stretches into a yawn-

(that holds for one, two, three seconds, helix knows it now by heart-)

a knock at the door sounds in the video. needle hunches his shoulders, grimacing- his eyes are dancing, he's not annoyed, not really-

"be right out!" he calls, and then- helix's voice on the other side-

"get your beauty routine under control!"

needle waits until his footsteps have vanished before turning back to the camera-

(six footsteps before they fade enough to become inaudible- helix has counted them so many times-)

"i don't need one," he says, and winks at the camera- his eyes are shining, bright and happy- "he's just jealous all of this is effortless. night, mimic. talk to you in the morning."

the video ends.

helix sits in the dark.

after a moment, he taps at the datapad again.

"ah, i love them," needle says. his laugh- snorting, open, happy-

(one-two-three for the yawn-)

helix hits pause. rewinds.

"i love them," needle says.

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

pause. rewind.

"i love them."

"i love them."

"i love them."

[lostwhump]

The Fugitive (1993)

[whumpypepsigal]

@whumpgifathon | Day 12: “Forced Injection”

Daimon Helstrom in Helstrom 1x09

[redd956]

Phobias Whump Prompt List 1

Inspired by @chosenchaos (Chaos from The Whump Corner Discord)

Claustrophobia: Fear of confined spaces

Caretaker knows an escape route Whumper would never be able to figure out. They're shocked at Whumpee's sudden willingness to stay with Whumper upon finding out that escape is through a tight cave/plumbing system.

Trapped in an elevator (with caretaker, whumper, another whumpee) after it broke down

Caretaker comforting Whumpee, telling them to focus on their breathing, while they're both pressed against each other in quite the confined place

Whumper locked Whumpee into a cramped space, now looking at the small medical room Caretaker has brought them to, they're getting all the wrong reminders

Whumpee needs to save their friend, however Whumper knew enough about them to make the rescue as agonizing as possible for the both of them.

Cynophobia: Fear of Dogs

Whumper hunting Whumpee down with a pack of viscously trained dogs.

Caretaker bringing Whumpee to their home. Maybe they finally convinced Whumpee to let them care for them in their own home, maybe their friendship grew closer enough, either way... Caretaker never told Whumpee they had a pet dog

Dogfolk whumper? Dogfolk caretaker? A really scared whumpee?

Whumpee is terrified of traveling through cities alone, awaiting a non-existent stray dog at every corner. Whumper has offered to take them home on a late night, and they seem so nice...

Whumper tormenting Whumpee with dogs, letting loose energetic jumpy ones in their home all the time, forcing them to hold puppies, and not caring at all to train their mass of dogs.

Acrophobia: Fear of Heights

Whumper's place happens to be very high up. In order to escape Whumpee needs to face their fear of heights. In the middle of an escape attempt, they find themselves shut down, sunken low to the floor, awaiting Whumper to come pick them up and return them.

Critically injured Whumpee needs to be airlifted somewhere. They're actively swearing they'll never forgive Caretaker.

Everything swaying, as Whumpee quickly turns dizzy, unable to take their eyes off the ground so far below them. They begin to topple sideways, and Caretaker nearly jumps to catch them.

Whumper holding a weapon to whumpee's throat as they dangle over an edge, promising whumpee if they pull themselves up they're whumper's

✨️Fall Damage✨️

Trypanophobia: Fear of Needles

Whumper taunting Whumpee with the end of a syringe, never letting them know when they're planning to plunge the pointed into their skin.

Caretaker having no choice but to force an IV into Whumpee's arms. They know Whumpee will likely never forgive them.

Everything hurts, and Whumpee is no longer able to bear the pain. The only thing that Caretaker has to alleviate the pain is drugs that have to be administered through needles.

Caretaker rescuing Whumpee, noticing welts and heavy bruising surrounded puffy dots where needles were inserted. All they can do is imagine what hell unconscious Whumpee went through as they carry them to safety.

Whumpee's eyes fluttering open, only to suddenly widen as soon as they notice the IV in their arm.

[jordanstrophe]

Behave, 11

CW: Whumper hospital, forced medical treatment, hurt/comfort, whumper turned caretaker, protective affirmative whumper, stitches, needles mentioned, (it’s mostly fluff) 

[Masterlist]

Whumpee stared at their hands, bruised and shaking uncontrollably. Down their arms were countless needle marks, a band aid accompanying each one. They crossed their legs on the bed as shivers crawled up their spine. They felt cold and drowsy since waking up. 

The door unlocked as whumpee’s spine snapped into posture. They winced when it pulled at the stitches along their ribs. Inhaling through their teeth, they held their breath and closed their eyes.

“No hiding behind the door, not under the bed, or cowering in the corner.” They repeated through their head. Rules the doctor gave them when they got tired of bending over and grabbing their ankles to pull them out. 

It hurt their back, they said. 

So lost in thought, they hadn’t noticed a cold shadow over them. They opened their eyes just in time for someone to grab their face from each side and wrenched their head high. 

“Whumpee are you okay!? Were you hurt?! I swear if they bent a single hair the wrong way!” Whumper shrilled. The jolt whumpee let loose almost freed them from whumper’s grip. 

Whumper turned their cheek left, then right, looking for a bruise, a scratch, anything that looked unnecessary. They were mostly looking for something to validate their anger. 

“Well!? Answer me!!” Whumper cried.

Whumpee looked up, the second their eyes made contact, they broke the silence with an almost inaudible sob. Whumper immediately let go as whumpee leaned forward until they were resting their forehead against whumper’s chest.

Whumper’s eyes went wide as they awkwardly wrapped their arms around them. “I’m sorry... I’m not trying to scare you, I just-” They whispered, stroking their hand down the back of whumpee’s hair. They stopped when they realized they could feel heat.

“Are you-... Are you burning up? How do you feel?” They ushered, crouching to their level a little more. Whumpee sniffled and rested their chin over whumper’s shoulder until they calmed. For once they weren’t resistant, defiant, scared even.

“I’m s-... I’m fine. I feel alright.” Whumpee spoke through a tired mutter. 

“You were going to say scared, weren't you?” Whumper edged.  

"No. I wasn’t.” They huffed a laugh in irony. 

“I was going to say I’m sorry.”

They could feel whumper’s head snap down at them. “Excuse me?” Whumper mimicked their laugh, but more out of disbelief. 

“The last time I saw you, I said I hated you.” Whumpee pulled their head from whumper’s chest and met their eyes. 

“I-... Didn’t mean it.” They wiped a few tears from their eyes and sniffled. 

Whumper felt their chest swelling with guilt. And the last time they saw them, they had forced a blood draw as they struggled and retaliated. It bruised worse than the rest ever had. 

“Don’t be.” They sighed, cupping their face and resting their forehead apologetically against theirs. “Don’t be at all. You’re sick.” They hummed. 

They couldn’t help but smirk a little too mischievously. 

“Does this mean you adore me?”

“-Okay that’s enough.” Whumpee broke the gesture and pulled away.

“I’m your favorite, right? Beloved? Cherished?” They heartfully teased.

“You’ve ruined it.”

Whumper laughed and sat next to them, pulling them against their shoulder and running their palm down their arm. 

“I won’t let them hurt you.” Whumper murmured. “I won’t lose you again.”

---

As of that morning, the doctor had added an addition to whumpee’s room: a camera that followed their every move. If they walked to one side, the camera would hum until it found them. 

The doctor slumped their feet on the desk and gnawed away at a sandwich, watching the scene between whumpee and whumper play on like entertainment.

They wondered if it was real, whatever bond they had. Maybe one was manipulating the other. Maybe one of them was breaking.

Maybe they both had. 

[Masterlist]

@serialobsesssor @fishtale88   @bluesoulpeace   roblingoblin285    @echo-of-umbra @whump-bunny  @pretty-little-whump @akaijisatsu  @whatiswhump @shannon-foraker   @whumpkitty @suspicious-whumping-egg @whatwhumpcomments  @whumpdreamz  

[whump-galaxy]

The whumpee trying so hard to fight off something mentally, either exhaustion, brainwashing, some kind of drug to enhance or prohibit their powers, etc. They know they can’t fight it off forever, so they warn their caretaker(s) to leave them.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Test Track AU (T$$ AU Masterlist)

previous // next (cw: self harm/suicide attempt)

as suggested by anon!

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me ,

@pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles ,

@echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000

@suspicious-whumping-egg, @cryptidwritings , @painsandconfusion , @grizzlie70 , @bloodsweatandpotato ,

@ladyblogofficialreporter @whumper-soot , @poeticagony , @lthrboy , @unforgivenn

[whumpshaped]

thinking about lab whump and how the whumpers in that situation usually have the proper equipment to control everything in whumpee's life. and i mean everything. captivity is already sort of like that- you're confined, only have access to food and water you're provided, clothes you're given etc. but in a lab? bro. bro. that but Tenfold.

constant surveillance. proper monitoring of every bodily function that's going on. food and liquids tailored exactly to the whumpers' intentions with whumpee, down to the exact nutrients and how whumpee's body is absorbing them. because they can just check that. do they get clothes? who knows! even if they do, it's likely a hospital gown or something similar. things in the room can be controlled so precisely from the amount of light (maybe even the ratio of natural to articial light) to the temperature. medication- need i say more about medication? all of them look the same, white pills with unknown effects and side effects, and that's not to mention the things whumpee gets their body pumped full of through an IV.

it's just... so much more than your usual "i'm keeping you in my basement and if for some reason you manage to get out and call the cops i'm likely going to jail". it's "you're never getting out. there's twenty of us here and there's round the clock surveillance, number pads, and finger print identification on every door. we know exactly what we're doing and that makes us experts at torturing you in very specific ways you might not even understand. and we're definitely going to act like you don't understand. even if you do get out, who are you calling? the authorities? how do you know they're not funding this?"

you're nothing but a rat in a cage, and you can only hope the button you're pressing is about to give you a treat and not a shock.